


Coming Out

by UP2L8



Series: Sex Shop AU [21]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24084010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UP2L8/pseuds/UP2L8
Summary: Alphonse visits his brother at work.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Series: Sex Shop AU [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1232186
Comments: 36
Kudos: 195





	Coming Out

**Author's Note:**

> My health took a serious downturn (not COVID-19 related), and as much as I wanted to write, I just wasn’t up to it. Taking [MyFandomCausesHanaji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/pseuds/MyFandomCausesHanaji%20/)'s advice again, and just posting something short and light to keep my hand in, and to (hopefully) get back on track.
> 
> Plus, I didn't want to miss posting something for RoyEd Month.

When Ed looked up to see Alphonse walking into Pothos, he felt like he was having a heart attack. For real. He had the distinct and extremely unpleasant sensation of his heart momentarily stuttering to a full stop. 

Al strolled in, glanced curiously around at the displays, looked up at Ed, and smiled. Then he held up a paper bag.

“I brought supper,” he said.

This cut off Ed’s first, most obvious question, which was what the hell his sweet, perfectly innocent little brother was doing, standing so nonchalantly in the midst of a wide variety of erotic displays for products designed to stimulate and arouse. 

Ed worked his tongue loose from the roof of his mouth to say, “Thanks.” 

The word came out as kind of a squeak, which made Al’s smile wider. Berta’s was already stretched out of proportion. Ed felt a little faint.

“Hi. I’m Alphonse Elric, Ed’s brother,” Al said to Berta with a sunny smile. He held the bag a little higher. “I brought you a burrito too,” because of course he did. He was Al. “And one for me.”

Ed’s brain, which had just undergone an emergency reboot, crashed again. “You’re going to eat it here?” The question came out at an even higher pitch. 

Al rolled his eyes. “Yes Brother,” he answered. “Unless you want me to eat in the parking lot. Winry won’t be here to pick me up for at least an hour.”

Ed would have been ashamed to admit that he gave that suggestion serious consideration before rejecting it. Though it had been a pretty mild May so far, it was unseasonably cool, especially in the evening. All positive test results aside, Al wasn’t up to standing around in slightly above freezing temperatures for five minutes, let alone an hour, no matter how desperate Ed was to preserve his brother’s innocence. He couldn’t even object on the grounds that Al was underage and thus not legally allowed inside Pothos. He had turned 20 about two months ago, exactly one month and two days after Ed had turned 21.

Ed checked the clock. 6:47 and twenty-two seconds. Winry better not be late.

But until then, how the hell was Ed supposed to distract Al from the tantalizing lure of the many and varied sex toys that surrounded him? The younger Elric was already being drawn in by the Twerking Butt on prominent display beside the checkout counter, a whimsical smile growing with his approach. Berta was reaching for the remote and Ed was frozen, unable to stop her. It was like one of those nightmares where you knew something terrible was about to happen, but could do nothing to stop it.

Berta’s hand closed around the remote. Al was within a foot of the Butt. A button was clicked. The Butt did its thing, cyberskin bouncing and jiggling as if its mechanical life depended on it. Who knew? Maybe it did.

Al laughed, and Berta doubled down, hitting the squirt button.

Ed wondered if extreme mortification could be lethal. He kind of hoped that it could.

Either oblivious to Edward’s near terminal embarrassment or deliberately ignoring it, Berta reached a hand out to Al.

“Hi, I’m Berta,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re looking well.”

“Thank you, I’m feeling well, too.” Al combed his fingers through his three inches of almost-back-to-normal hair, smiling brightly as he gripped Berta’s hand in a firm shake. “And I’ve also heard a lot about you. Brother comes home with a funny story about this place just about every day.”

“Yeah, it’s Comedy Central around here,” Berta confirmed. “Never a dull moment.”

Al finally registered his brother’s extreme discomfort and frowned. “You’re looking a bit flushed, Brother,” he observed. “Are you feeling okay?”

Ed cleared his throat. Twice. “I’m fine,” he lied.

Al’s frown deepened, not buying it. “You don’t look fine.”

“I’m okay,” Ed said, putting as much sincerity into his voice as possible.

To no avail. Al was peering into his face, more concerned by the moment. Berta was watching both Elrics with great amusement, looking back and forth between them like a spectator at a tennis match.

She finally spoke up. “He’s your kid brother, Ed, not your kid.” And then couldn’t help laughing at her own joke.

Ed shot her a glare that could have stripped multiple coats of paint off an antique door frame.

Al finally caught on.

“I’ve been to the University, seen your office and your lab. You weren’t uncomfortable then. Are you ashamed to do this job, Brother?” Al asked softly.

Berta was watching him with undisguised curiosity. Ed took a moment for serious consideration, and all he could come up with was, “No.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Ed sputtered. Did Al really not get it? “It’s just . . . I mean I don’t . . . you’re not . . . I think . . .”

“What your brother is trying so desperately to say,” said an amused voice from the doorway, “is that his job involves selling products designed for sexual gratification, and it’s disturbing for him to think of you as a sexual being. I imagine it would be difficult for anyone to acknowledge that in a close relative, and even more so in a younger sibling of whom he feels particularly protective.”

Roy Mustang sauntered into the store, all serene confidence, and Ed couldn’t have loved him more in that moment if he tried, even without the tray of coffee in his hands.

“Hello Roy.” Al smiled warmly. “If I had known you were coming, I would have brought you a burrito too.”

“And I would have brought you a coffee had I known you were here,” Roy countered, answering smile just as warm. “What brings you to Pothos, Alphonse?”

“I wanted to surprise my brother,” Al explained. “I guess the surprise wasn’t as pleasant as I’d hoped.”

“I’m always glad to see you Al,” Ed objected. “Just. Not. . . here. Like, surrounded by sex toys and stuff.”

“You aren’t the guardian of my virtue, Brother,” Al said gently.

Like hell he wasn’t. “I know,” Ed said out loud. “I guess my personal experiences make it hard, er, difficult, for me to let my guard down when it comes to you.” Al wasn’t the only one who could put together an effective emotional blackmail stratagem.

Al nodded with a sigh. “I know. But yours was an entirely different situation. That was a toxic and ultimately dangerous relationship. This is retail. It’s harmless.”

“Agreed,” Edward said, expression grave. “But just so you know, anyone you eventually hook up with will be getting the third degree, an extensive background check, and the shovel talk. And you know Winry will be deeply involved in the process. Be prepared.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Al told him solemnly.

Both Elrics held to the seriousness of the pronouncement. For about 2 seconds. Then they broke down into laughter. Everyone else in the store breathed relieved sighs of varying depth and profundity. 

The atmosphere lightened after that. Burritos were shared around so that everyone present was accommodated – and Fat Bastard burritos were big enough that no one went hungry. Coffee was shared as well – although Ed’s black quadruple sugar dark roast nightmare was all his by unanimous decision. Despite their surroundings, this was normal: people having dinner together, shooting the shit, enjoying each other’s company. This was okay. Ed could handle this. This was fine.

So of course Barry the Sub choose that moment to walk into the store.

Barry was a regular. Ed had met him the first week on the job. It had been an interesting encounter, and an informative introduction to the world of forniphilia.

Many people turned to roleplay to spice up their sex lives, and almost any role could be the foundation for an erotic experience: Doctor/Patient, Escort/Client, Boss/Secretary, Cop/Criminal. There was really no limit to the scenarios people might consider sexually stimulating. For some it could be as simple as wearing a miniskirt and fishnet stockings. For others, it might involve elements of dominance and submission. It could involve sexual bondage, wherein one partner was restrained.

Barry’s tastes took all those concepts to a whole new level. 

As a form of bondage, forniphilia was the practice of creating human furniture. It involved the subject being bound and expected to stay immobile as an inanimate household object, such as a footstool, table, or even a chair. Barry had explained it to Ed in great detail and offered a practical demonstration, which Ed had declined. Barry kept trying, however. Very aggressively, truth be told. The Pothos staff often speculated that Barry the Sub might actually be a closet Dom.

Barry sashayed through the door and froze, eyes locking on Al.

“Oh my,” he breathed. “There are two of you.”

Barry ran a hand through his light blond hair, shaved Prohibition style on the sides with a blown back longish mohawk. He drew himself up to his full, slim height, and strutted over like a model on a catwalk. Shrugging off his jacket, he angled his hips in a transparent effort to display his proportionately muscular frame, consistent with his day job as a butcher and his particular kink. Staying motionless in pose and position for any length of time was a demonstration of considerable strength. His eyes locked on Al, he stepped up to just inside an acceptable distance. Placing a hand on his chest, he offered the other to Al, palm down, wrist bent.

“I’m Barry,” he purred.

“Alphonse,” Al responded, taking his hand. “I’m Edward’s brother.”

“Oh, yes, the family resemblance is rather striking,” Barry cooed, casting a sideward wink at a stricken Ed.

“What can we do for you today, Barry?” Berta piped up, hoping to defuse the situation.

“Oh, the usual,” Barry said, holding on to Al’s hand for far longer than was acceptable in Ed’s opinion. “Some of that nice, soft, natural cotton-fibre rope. In hot pink, if you have it. I’m told that shade looks absolutely scrumptious biting into my skin. And I do believe my Ass Master needs replacing.” Doe eyes were locked on Alphonse, his lashes lowered. “It sees a lot of action.” The smile turned coy.

Ed felt himself rising up off his stool when a hand dropped firmly onto his shoulder, anchoring him in place: Roy proactively saving him from a felony assault, or possible homicide charge.

Despite the turmoil his brother was experiencing at the moment however, Alphonse wasn’t disturbed at all. If anything, he appeared to be equal parts amused and intrigued.

“If it’s not too personal a question, can I assume you’re into bondage and domination?” Al asked, curious.

“Oh honey-child, you have no idea,” Barry said, voice low and sultry. “If you’re interested, let me introduce you to my PornHut channel. I have quite the following.” He finally let go of Al’s hand to fish his phone out of his back pocket.

“No offence, but I think if you did, brother might suffer a massive cerebral aneurysm,” Al said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Let’s put that on hold until he realizes that I’m not three.” 

Barry threw back his head and laughed. Then he leaned in.

“I would love to be your furniture,” he crooned, lips inches away from Al’s ear. 

Al grinned, delighted. Ed was torn between jumping over the counter to pound the living shit out of Barry or quietly suffering the aneurysm Al had predicted. 

Acknowledge that Al wasn’t three? Sure. When hell froze over. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Roy/Ed month. Be safe and stay well.


End file.
